


Blame the Tea

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Cute Master and Padawan stuff, GFY, Gen, Temporary Blindness, Tumblr Prompt, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a diplomatic mission, Obi-wan runs into some trouble thanks to the local cuisine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame the Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaceFedora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceFedora/gifts).



“Again Master Jedi, you have our deepest apologies! We had no idea our food would have such effects on human physiology!”  
  
“I would appreciate you apology more, Lord Yu’tu, if you had not attempted to convince me to leave my padawan unconscious on the floor!”  
  
Obi-wan groaned as voices reached his ears, sounding distant and a little distorted. It took him a few moments for his still confused mind to recognize the voice of his master, irritated and growing clearer. He opened his eyes, trying to find the source of the voices but instead found only darkness. Confused, he blinked, trying to will his eyes to focus with no success. What was going on?  
  
“Master?” His voice was horse, and he immediately discovered that anything above a whisper made his throat scream protests. He heard a sharp intake of breath and the sound of robes rustling as someone came towards where he lay. “I am here Obi-wan.” / _Thank the Force you are awake_./  
  
“What happened?” Obi-wan croaked, turning his head towards Qui-gon’s voice. “Why is it so dark in here?”  
  
There was a long paused, and Obi-wan could feel Qui-gon’s concern and hesitation through their training bond. He frowned, trying to push himself up on his elbows. “Master?”  
  
“It is not dark Obi-wan.”  
  
Obi-wan blinked, a motion which still did nothing to aid his sight, or lack thereof. “What do you mean, of course it―” He stopped, understanding making his eyes widen. “I can’t see.”  
  
He felt Qui-gon’s large hand cover his own, and he squeezed it, grateful for the silent support as he tried to expel the panic growing in his chest out into the Force.  
  
“What happened?” He asked again.  
  
“You passed out during the banquet.”  
  
Oh yes, the banquet. Obi-wan remembered. The ruling council of Rin’ten had insisted on it, upon the finalization of the system’s entrance into the Republic. Qui-gon had tried to refuse; it had been a long mission, and both he and Obi-wan were eager to return to Courscant and the Jedi temple, but the council refused to be swayed.  
  
Qui-gon was still speaking. “It appears one of the local teas, served only at formal gatherings, does not agree with species outside of the Rin’ten. Unfortunately, we only learned this when you passed out after drinking it.”  
  
“So now I’m blind?!” The panic was resisting all attempts at quelling. Sensing this, Qui-gon sent a wave of reassurance to his padawan.  
  
“The healers have assured me that it is only a temporary side effect. Your sigh should begin to return within the next few days.” Obi-wan heaved a sigh of relief as Qui-gon continued. “However I still want to take you back to the Temple immediately and let the healers there take a look at you.” The last part was fractionally quieter than the rest, and Obi-wan could only assume it was being pointedly directed at the council member who must still be in the room. There was a rushed stream of apologizes and reassurances that a ship would be prepared immediately, before Obi-wan heard the sounds of a door hissing open and closed as the councilor left the room.  
  
Silence hung in the air before Qui-gon finally spoke. “I am very glad you are awake, padawan.” His words very thick with barely restrained concern and relief, as well as the slightest touch of fear. “For a few moments, it looked as if I was going to lose you.”  
  
Obi-wan squeezed the hand he still held once again. “I must say, I’m glad you didn’t. Temporary loss of sight or not, I do like breathing.” He felt Qui-gon swat him and ducked his head, grinning.  
  
“Brat. You wreak havoc on my nerves.”  
  
“Only doing my job, Master.”  
  
Qui-gon chuckled at that, and Obi-wan’s grin widened, only to fall away as he was suddenly hit with jaw-cracking yawn. Strong hands covered his shoulders, pushing him back down on the bed.  
  
“Sleep.” Qui-gon instructed, his voice accented with the Force, and Obi-wan slipped back into unconsciousness.  
  
When Obi-wan next woke, he was struck by the strangest sensation of motion. He blinked, momentarily confused by the unyielding dark. “Master?”  
  
“We are on our way to the ship. Go back to sleep Obi-wan, I have you.”  
  
Oh. He was being carried. Obi-wan nodded, resting his head back against Qui-gon’s chest before a thought struck him and he groaned.  
  
“Padawan? What’s wrong?”  
  
“I just realized. Abella is never going let me live down the fact that I was poisoned by tea.”  
  
He could feel Qui-gon’s laughter as much as he could hear it and smiled, closing his eyes once again.


End file.
